The Dark Lyre
by Carolare Scarletus
Summary: Overwhelmed with grief, Orpheus travels to the underworld to collect his wife and strikes up a bargain with Hades. The catch is, Eurydice has to walk behind him, and Orpheus can't look back to make sure she's following him. The couple ascends to the surface without a problem. Though, there is a certain lesson in cheating death.


**House:** Slytherin

 **Category** : Short

 **Prompts:** Dueling (Action)

 **Characters:** Hermione Granger; Draco Malfoy; Adrian Pucey; Tom Riddle/Voldemort

 **World:** AU (Alternative Universe)

 **Word count: 2,759** (Excluding Author's Note, but including entire Short Story and Title)

 **Summary:** Overwhelmed with grief, Orpheus travels to the underworld to collect his wife and strikes up a bargain with Hades. The catch is, Eurydice has to walk behind him, and Orpheus can't look back to make sure she's following him. The couple ascends to the surface without a problem. Though, there is a certain lesson in cheating death.

 **Rating:** T

 **Author's Note:** I struggled with the 'dueling' aspect of this work the whole time. Special thanks to Kristina and Queen who helped me with the title. My team is the best! :D

Orpheus: Draco; Eurydice: Hermione; Aristeus: Adrian; Hades: Tom/Voldemort; Zeus: Dumbledore; Apollo: Harry.

As always, enjoy

-Carolare Scarletus

* * *

-The Dark Lyre-

* * *

A riotous roar travelled through the stadium. The watchers' voice grew to a crescendo, and soon the entire platform for the games were filled with noise and cheer. From what he could tell as he stood inside of his tent, looking at his reflection in the mirror, the ceremonial light had been brought in from a far and undisclosed distance. The second the torch was lit another round of victorious cheer erupted from the peaceful break of silence. Just as Orpheus was about to turn, he found himself staring at an image he would never forget. She manifested almost out of nowhere. Her auburn eyes captured his, and they both fell into the sultry domain of purified silver.

"Eurydice," he greeted her with a gentle voice. "Should you not be with your father?"

"My father is not my Keeper." She did not move from her perch at the entrance. Instead, her eyes travelled sadly to the mirror and she sighed. "I wish you did not have that hideous thing."

"You want me to get rid of it?" he asked, taking a step away from the mirror and going over to his armoire. Silence was his answer. "I do not see any reason to rid myself of this treasure. I reminds me of what I almost lost."

"But, Hades played you as a fool."

"I would not have looked back." Orpheus reminded her softly. "So much so, that is how deep and strong my love is for you."

Eurydice remained silent, her eyes glowing with the embers of hatred until they were fanned away by her love for him. When she spoke, her troubles were evident. "It is because of that mirror that we are in this predicament."

Orpheus looked up from the table, tilted his head slightly and looked at her over his shoulder. There was a small, invisible line that kept them separated, but even then, he could still feel the deep-seated hatred she had for the mirror. It had been during an expedition with Jason and the Argonauts that he found it, and when he looked inside of its face, he saw something that his heart had been missing. Though, strangely enough, it had been Eurydice who he was missing. It was not long after the discovery that she was bitten by a snake while frolicking in a forest that the prophecy from the mirror came true. What it did not say

would rescue her, since she had a previous consort before him.

"You do not have to do this," a small voice pleaded with him.

Orpheus casted another singular glance at the flap of the tent before looking away from the girl at the entrance. As he looked into the mirror again, he could see Eurydice's face reflecting back in the same discriminating and judgmental manner in which she used when she first learned of the tournament between him and her consort. reflection, he frowned. He stood in the middle of a grand room with nothing but his pride to stand for. The crowd outside let out an up-lifting cheer at the sight of the ceremonial torch as it was lit.

He had been dreading the confrontation. Ever since the trial in Athena's forest, Orpheus kept his distance away from her. Eurydice moved away from the tent entrance, her eyes watering with each stepped. He would have been a fool not to welcome her in his arms.

"You are a fool, you are aware of that, yes?" she whispered, wrapping her arms around his torso and leaning heavily against his unclothed back. Her hands traveled the steep length of his impressive abs, gliding up to meet his breast and then finally his biceps. Hermione pressed herself further into Orpheus' back, her cheek touching his skin in the most familiar way. Orpheus' hand found home with hers, and a grimace graced his face as he breathed in, her scent filling his nostrils.

"A fool blinded by love," he told her quietly. Orpheus could hear their elected cheers from just inside of the tent, and it was moment's like these that made him contemplate the extent of his love for her.

"Is it too late to ask you to withdraw from this spar?"

Orpheus couldn't help chuckling at her statement," Perhaps, but what else would I stand to lose if I do not participate?"

"You already have my heart, Orpheus." Eurydice said slowly. "What else could you possibly want?"

"I do not have

," he said, turning and trying to place his hand in hers. There were a great many of things he could possibly want, but it all somehow traveled back to her. Slowly, Orpheus turned and finally met her gaze. In the heat of the moment, he supposed he forgot himself because in a blink of a moment he had her pinned to the wall, his eyes blazing red and his mouth just inches from her. Eurydice let out a breath that he swore would have been his undoing if it hadn't been for the simple fact of the curse. Just a few inches separated them.

"I am going to free us, my love." He breathed with an audible growl. Eurydice shivered and the depth of her love and devotion lit up inside of her eyes.

"I do not believe we have much hope of restoring what has been taken from us…" she whispered sorrowfully.

"Then, let me instill that belief." He said, voice deep and rich. The space between them vibrated pleasantly and when Orpheus pulled away, his eyes narrowed as he said," Let me be your freedom."

Eurydice looked as if she has something else to say. Instead, she shook her head, turned and exited the ten without a single word. O watched her leave, and for a minute, he wished there was some other way to win her hand and get rid of the curse that plagued them.

Someone came in and asked, "Are you ready, my son?" He looked to Orpheus for an answer.

The only one he got was a single note that came from his Lyre and quick nod of the head.

* * *

'

widened

Eurydice exited the tent and ventured over to the small nook between the participant's camp and the path to her private viewing chamber. He has been watching her closely ever since the incident in the forest. It had not been just the mirror that promised this fate, but from the sisters themselves- he was meant to have her. Not because of a romantic obligation, but purely for the extraordinary power he felt when he first laid eyes on her. They would make the perfect couple, and if things went accordingly, he did not see any reason not to fall in love with her.

The Lesser God looked back to the wide-open field of the stadium.

As the other participants exercised,

took a gander at Orpheus' Lyre and was not shocked at the powerful wave of Magick only known to a handful of Gods. He was greatly aware that Hephaestus was popular among the contestants. Never did he imagine that Orpheus would sink so low.

"I can sense a drastic difference in your precious Lyre, Orpheus," snickered Aristeus as he rotated his wrist effortlessly as he practiced with his sword. "Hephaestus really must favor you to bestow such a powerful weapon."

"Are you mocking my choice of weapon, Aristeus?"

"Only criticizing, dear friend. But, how do you expect to win your beloved's soul with that unreliable piece?"

"How do you know about Eurydice?"

Aristeus chuckled darkly before capturing his eyes and challenging him with a look of his own. "I heard it from Hades himself. He plans to take the girl soon, as you know. I suppose you have not told your goddess that, have you?"

"I did want to worry her."

"Time is slowly running out," hummed the Lesser God condescendingly. "She cannot survive long without her soul. If I were you, I would try to figure out how to slow it down before another man tries to save her."

"And, you are that man?"

"I am more than a man that you will ever be, Orpheus."

In an instant, something undeniably shiny was summoned and Aristeus watched, stunned, as one of Hephaestus gifts came into fruition. What was once a golden Lyre was transformed into a gleaming trophy of power and great craftsmanship. The blade of Orpheus' sword shined brilliantly in the blazing sun; the hilt, though a bland sight compared to the blade, was built with such strength that, when Orpheus gripped it, the sword almost seemed to light up. The God of Music rotated his wrist threateningly as he stepped toward Aristeus.

The sensation of it was extraordinary. As strange as it was, he welcomed it. Like a tiny hose filling up with water, his veins filled up with the tremendous surge of dark magick. It was marvelous; he could not find the precise words, but he knew he very much enjoyed the feeling of the unknown substance filling his veins with dark enraptured allure. For a moment, he forgot where he was and what he had been doing until the barrier of his body and mind shattered. He heard voices. Nasty, hissing voices that sounded argumentative. They were discussing something he could not quite grasp. The power was far too distracting, even if it were the most pleasurable thing he had ever felt. More influential than the touch of a woman, it caressed every curve of his body, trickled into his mind like some emollient salve, and touched his very soul. In that instant, he felt the convulsion of his heart beat, the tantalizing warmth of his blood pumping to the rest of his body. Oxidized with a foreign substance, it filled the rest of his body to the brink of explosion.

This was what magick was…at its finest treasure. And, it was what the Keres had been truthful of their interpretation of the dark arts.

This is what the power of his blade could provide and he could not bear a single moment without it.

By the Gods, Hephaestus crafted a powerful weapon for him, indeed!

"Want to play, God?" Orpheus growled. "Then, let us play."

A blinding light streaked across the heavens, bathing the watchers in the golden heat of their battle. Before Orpheus could strike the first blow, Aristeus was one step ahead of him. As soon as his sword was summoned, he kicked up from the ground and, as if from the mist, appeared in front of him, tossed him in the air with a mighty lift.

He fell like a dreamer's uttered vision. His sword poised in front of him in the shimmering light of the high day. With controlled guidance to propel him, Thanatos was able redirect his body and land swiftly on the balls of his feet before reeling his arm and attacking with the most damaging of forces. The sound of their swords clashing against one another was both daunting and expertly thrilling. It was more thunderous than a thousand issued bolts of Zeus. In the stadium, their loyal companions whistled and shouted their approval as they skated across the battle floor. From the sidelines came the rapturous roars of their companions and friends, each expressing their approval and undying appreciation to both opponents. Their continuous support was the driving force to which they reigned; with it, they were able to put in their best effort and provide an excellent performance to their passionate need for entertainment. Their wounds and abrasions were for their guests, not each other.

Aristeus swerved sharply to the left, Orpheus following in determined pursuit. It seemed as if the Lesser God had read his unearthly signal.

"Do not back away now, Orpheus!" bellowed the God.

The God of Music fell from the earth, and a startling revelation fell over him. He felt every ounce of magick that seeped through the pores of the earth as it propelled him downward. The sensation was it was akin to a thousand bursts of light coming forth all at once and he did everything to keep hold of it as he completed his journey to the blazing face of the land to which his opponent waited.

Aristeus swerved sharply to the left, Orpheus following in determined pursuit. It seemed as if the God of Love had read his unearthly signal.

"Do not back away now, Aristeus!" bellowed Orpheus.

He

with studied aggravation. The God would not see or live long to hear of it. He was sure.

Pulling his arm back, Aristeus swerved steadily to the right, missing his opponent's attack by a mere fraction of second. Orpheus fell forward.

The Lesser God watched as the storm that was Orpheus streak blazingly across the sun-engrossed sky. The spectator's astonished gasps fell deafeningly upon his ears as his own eyes widened in disbelief. He had punctured but a small fraction of the God's mighty veil; he quickly found himself out of options and it was a race against Cronos to put an end to their battle once and for all.

Acting quickly, he dodged the brutal attack, swerving sharply to the right and skidding across the expanse of the arena, covering much ground before he came to a final halt. Looking up, he found that Orpheus was playing yet another trick on him; he was there, somewhere, in the mist. It was up to Aristeus to read his handprints before he demonstrated the remarkable power that he possessed.

Orpheus had dealt with the immense magnitude of the liberties imposed by his opponent. Lest he not forget the day he battled him in his forest, finding fault in the fact that his own bearings were barely a match for him.

It had been a long fight, one Apollo made damn sure that we pay respect to later in their engagement. If he had learned one thing, it would be that he could not give Aristeus any reason to think him of the lesser and that it marked a life-long commitment of brotherly sport and a companionship unbroken. It had been hundreds of years since that first interaction, and he has yet to forget everything that he has learned.

"You fight like a mortal!" he bellowed angrily, knowing that it would enrage him even more. That was precisely how he wanted him. "Come down and fight me like a man, you coward!"

"I am no coward!" the hate-stricken God proclaimed, poising his sword in front of him in the same manner as his opponent.

The two of them stared deathly into each other's eyes until in a blink of an eye Orpheus vanished completely and without a trace. It had been the same maneuver that he used on him. This time, he was unable to read a single wave of his being in the scope of the stadium. It was as if he was fighting blindly with an opponent that did not make a single bit of noise to aid him in his whereabouts.

Looking around quickly, Aristeus edged to one side of the arena slowly, sword drawn tightly, his eyes two narrow jewels upon his head. Having fought the God countless times did not provide him the least bit of gratitude when it came to tactic. He had learnt not to give out his position at any cost. He was pleased with the sudden provision the God provided him. The tournament suddenly would turn out to be a more favorable attribute by the day's end and he could not wait to see who came out the victor.

Aristeus felt the edge of his sword touch his shoulder.

Before he could blink, Orpheus won.

A roar erupted from the stadium, and Zeus' bolts streaked across the sky. His defeat came in a blazing feat of glory.

"Do not

mock me again, God," spat Orpheus, touching the man's shoulder with the tongue of his blade. "It will do you well to remember."

In a single note, Orpheus' sword transformed back to the Golden Lyre, and he strolled away, thrumming his fingers against the silver strings.


End file.
